


The Young Man Doesn't Know

by yugto



Category: Suikoden Tierkreis
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M, Romantic Comedy, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-20
Updated: 2019-03-20
Packaged: 2019-11-06 22:16:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17948147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yugto/pseuds/yugto
Summary: Roberto is failing German. Sieg is trying to get the new girl to stop stalking him. Somehow, they think fake dating is a good idea.(Or, the one in which Roberto knows exactly how much of a romcom his life is, and absolutely hates it.)





	The Young Man Doesn't Know

**Author's Note:**

> > _Bakit ba ganyan?_  
>  _Binata'y di alam_  
>  _Na ang "Ewan" ay katulad na rin ang "Oo"ng inaasam_  
>  Why is it like that? The young man doesn't know  
> That the "I don't know" is just like the "Yes" he's hoping for  
>   
> — ["Ewan"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qssjin1sRqQ) (I Don't Know), APO Hiking Society  
> 
> 
> This fic has a playlist, which you can find [here](https://open.spotify.com/user/1218939469/playlist/1ATv0TzzR4b5SV09yLE6Ab?si=bOjYDtHhTNyU_eok-6VI4Q). 

The thing about Ratselhaft High School is that it isn’t a large school at all. Each grade has around ninety to one hundred students—this year’s sophomore class is the biggest in the school’s history, checking in at a staggering one hundred and eight students. It’s a small, small school, which means that if you don’t like someone, it’s very,  _ very _ hard to avoid them.

For Sieg, this fact is particularly problematic because of the new girl, a recent transfer to Ratselhaft High from the Ch’olui Mountains. Her name is Maybelle, and she’s a nice girl, honestly. Due to her outrageous behavior, though, Sieg tends to forget that fact. For her, it was love at first sight, and she’s convinced that she and Sieg are reincarnated lovers from some time in the distant past. For him, it was confusion at first sight, and awkwardness from there on out.

It’s a crisp Wednesday in September, the second week after Maybelle started at their school, and Sieg and Marica are making a run for it. With their lunches clutched tightly in their hands, they sprint out of the cafeteria, across the courtyard, and down the hallway, darting glances backwards over their shoulders to make sure that Maybelle isn’t following them.

“See, if a guy came up to me and told me we were ‘fated lovers’, I’d smack him one,” Marica muses, as they duck around a corner and into the school library. Liu waves them over to a table in the corner by the window to the hallway. He’s sitting on one side, facing the window; on the other side, Jale is folded into the space between the table and the wall, snoozing quietly with his head pillowed on his Spanish textbook. Sieg slides in next to Liu and Marica puts her things down next to Jale. Both of them take a moment to catch their breath before Marica continues in a lower voice, “But if you hit a girl, I’ll slug you. Even if she _is_ annoying and insists on trying to follow us everywhere we go.”

“Fighting is illegal on school grounds,” Liu cuts in. He sounds weary, and okay, yeah, Sieg guesses he can understand why. Being the solitary pacifistic voice of reason for the four of them can get pretty exhausting sometimes. Sieg and Marica are not above punching things in an attempt to solve their problems, and having been raised by Selen, Jale is of the opinion that you can solve _ any _ problem by punching something hard enough. “Do either of you even remember that rule?”

The two blank stares he gets in response are really all the answer Liu needs. The ensuing silence is only punctuated by the sounds of the three of them eating their lunches and Jale’s quiet snoring, until a familiar pink head passes by the library window and Sieg dives under the table, crash-landing on Jale’s feet.

Outside the window, Maybelle pauses for a second. Liu suddenly becomes completely engrossed in his Chinese textbook, scrawling  _ hanzi _ diligently on a piece of notebook paper. With their backs to the window, Jale and Marica have less to worry about; Marica simply shifts over to the side by a few inches to block Sieg from Maybelle’s sight.

Jale stirs and blinks sleepily once or twice, raising his head. There’s a faint smudge of pencil lead on his cheek. “Oh, hey,” he says in the direction of his feet. Sieg flashes him a thumbs-up from under the table. “I get that we’re hiding from Maybelle and all, but could you move over? Pretty sure I can’t feel my toes.”

Sieg rolls to the side and off Jale’s feet, grumbling, “It’d be great if we didn’t have to hide in here every day. I think the librarian has it in for me.” Outside the window, Maybelle squints suspiciously through the window for a moment before she shrugs and walks off down the hallway. Sieg waits a few seconds more before sliding out from under the table, taking a seat next to Liu.

“Could you just pretend to date someone so Maybelle gets off your back?” Liu asks. “I know that sounds like it came straight out of one of Sisuca’s romcoms, but honestly, I think you’d be willing to try anything at this point.”

“Who would I even date, though?” Sieg asks helplessly. “Marica is literally my adopted sister and that’d be nasty, and also she’s dating Jale and I am not a homewrecker.” Marica rolls her eyes and Jale flashes a thumbs up, while Sieg looks to be deep in thought for a moment. “Wait. Liu.” He stands up and drops to one knee in front of Liu, grasping Liu’s hand in both of his. “Will you be my fake boyfriend?”

“You can’t do that, idiot,” Marica scolds him, reaching across the table to cuff him on the back of the head. “Liu likes Len-Lien, remember? Do you  _ want _ to mess that up?”

“Oh man, you’re right, I forgot!” Sieg says, scandalized, and jumps up, dropping Liu’s hand as if it’s scalded him. Returning to his seat, he muses, “So if I can’t date you because that’ll mess up your chances with Len-Lien—”

Liu cuts Sieg off by turning a brilliant shade of red and spluttering for a while. Eventually, he manages to stop spluttering for long enough to squeeze out, “Th-There’s got to be  _ someone _ out there who’ll put up with you for long enough to deter Maybelle, right?”

“If there’s someone like that out there, I dunno who they are,” Sieg shrugs. The lunch bell rings, effectively putting an end to their conversation. Jale jerks up with a muttered curse and the realization that he forgot to print his Spanish homework, and the four of them pick up their things and move out.

* * *

 

Roberto is unaware of Sieg’s predicament, and would be perfectly fine not knowing about it for the rest of his high school career, which will last for exactly eight and a half more months. Then comes graduation, and a summer of work at the Night’s Veil dojo, and then hopefully his first quarter at Astrasia University. No matter what happens over these next seven months, as long as he passes his classes, finishes his college applications, and gets in  _ somewhere _ , he’ll never have to walk through the halls of Ratselhaft High again.

Passing all his classes would be easy enough, if he hadn’t been a fool his freshman year and decided to take German. Well, okay, that sounds a little harsh—it’s not like he  _ hates _ German or anything. He likes the language itself — it’s a nice link to his family, and it’s kind of cool to be retroactively able to translate his grandparents’ favorite sayings. But the German-speaking members of his family are long gone, and after four years of German, trying to remember all the vocabulary and the grammar is significantly more challenging than it was his freshman year. It doesn’t help that their high school’s German 4 class, which comes with college credit from a local university’s German 103 course, is even more difficult than in previous years. One bad test at the beginning of the semester pulled his grade down to a D+, and subsequent assignments and quizzes have done nothing to elevate his grade. He’s exhausted from completing college applications and scholarship applications and working. Studying just doesn’t seem to fit into his schedule at the moment.

He barely has the energy, the motivation, or the time to keep track of the people he lives with; keeping track of his classmates, whom he never interacts with outside of class, is pretty much beyond his mental capacity. So when Sieg bangs through the door to their German classroom, Roberto doesn’t know why he’s running—he barely knows the kid, after all. What he knows of Sieg is strictly limited to the four walls of their German classroom and brief glimpses of him in the hallways.

Over the two weeks he has had German with him, Roberto has learned three things for sure about Sieg:

1) Sieg is always in a hurry to get from one place to another. He sprints into their class seconds before the bell and is the first one out of the door when it’s over. (He has also, on multiple occasions, almost run Roberto over in the hallway. Not like he cares, or even remembers, probably.)

2) Sieg talks like there are thousands of thoughts building up in his head and the only things preventing him from voicing them faster are the limitations of the human body. He does this not only in English, but in German, too, which leads to point 3:

3) Sieg is indisputably better than Roberto at German, and Roberto hates him just a little bit for it.

* * *

 

“Roberto! Don’t tell her I’m here, okay?” Sieg says frantically. Without even waiting for a reply, he dives behind the teacher’s desk.  _ Herr  _ Mourgent is by no means a neat and tidy man, and it shows back here: there are piles of old German textbooks covered by a thick layer of dust, and there’s barely enough room for Sieg to wedge himself under the desk. Still, he manages to fit himself into the tiny space just as another set of footsteps clicks into the room.

“Did someone run in here?” he hears Maybelle ask. A pause follows. Sieg can’t see anything save for a smattering of dust bunnies and twenty-seven faded and battered copies of  _ Komm mit! _ , so he holds his breath, hoping that Roberto will come through. Somehow, his luck holds, and Roberto replies with a scathing “I wouldn’t know.”

“What do you mean? You’ve been sitting in this classroom for the whole free period, haven’t you?!”

“And I’ve been studying.” There’s a loud thud—Sieg guesses it’s Roberto’s German textbook slamming down on the desk, as if to prove a point. Speaking as someone who dropped his own German textbook on Jale’s foot once (look, it was an  _ accident _ , all right) Sieg thinks his guess is pretty accurate. “Look, kid, I have a midterm next week.”

“But this is for the sake of true love! Are you really so caught up in your studying that you won’t even look up when someone runs by?” Maybelle is starting to sound skeptical, and Sieg starts to panic. His cover is probably about to be blown. It doesn’t help at all that the beginnings of a sneeze are building up in the back of his throat.  _ Not now _ , he begs whatever higher powers there may be,  _ please just give me one more minute _ .

Seemingly unaffected by Maybelle’s skepticism, Roberto snaps back, “No, because I  _ focus _ when I study. Or at least I  _ was _ focusing, until you walked in here and interrupted me for the sake of ‘true love’.” His frustrated voice climbs in volume as he goes on; Sieg feels bad for Maybelle for a very brief moment, before he remembers that Maybelle is the reason he’s hiding behind this desk in the first place. He pinches his nose in an attempt to stave off the oncoming sneeze, as Roberto continues, “Now listen up. This midterm is the only thing standing between me and a passing grade in German, and I’m not letting some kid be the reason I don’t graduate, so  _ get out of here _ !”

_ Huh. So Roberto is failing German.  _ Sieg files that tidbit of information away for some time when he’s not hiding from Maybelle, holds his nose, and concentrates on trying not to sneeze. Offended by Roberto’s harsh words, Maybelle stomps out the door; the second the door slams behind her, Sieg lets out a monster sneeze, muffled only by his arm. He pokes his head up uncertainly from behind the desk to find Roberto glaring at his German textbook as if it’s personally offended him—the movement catches Roberto’s eye, and the glare subsides into a scowl. “Bless you,” he says, and turns back to his studying.

“Thanks for that,” Sieg grins, standing up and dusting himself off. Roberto lets out a noncommittal grunt, clearly immersed in his studies once more. Sieg takes his normal seat a few rows away, pulls out his phone, and opens up Clash of Clans while he waits for  _ Herr _ Mourgent to show up.

* * *

 

By the Friday of that week, Roberto can add one more item to his list of things he knows about Sieg:

4) He’s being stalked by a very determined sophomore girl, who insists that she’s seeking Sieg for the sake of true love and doesn’t seem to care that  _ some people _ need to study.

He expected covering for Sieg to be a one-time sort of thing, but no. Every day that week, during their free period, Sieg flies through the door and takes refuge behind  _ Herr _ Mourgent’s desk. Roberto grudgingly helps him out and pretends he hasn’t seen anyone when the pink-haired girl flounces in, because living with Chrodechild for the past three years means he’s picked up annoying things like chivalry and the tendency to be a decent human being. When she storms out, Sieg pokes his head out from behind the desk to check if the coast is clear, says a quick thank you to Roberto, and relocates to his chair without offering any explanation for the events of the past five minutes. The rest of the class files in,  _ Herr  _ Mourgent starts the lesson, and Roberto’s left feeling faintly intrigued by his classmate’s life for a few minutes. Then, inevitably, he’ll trip over the conjugation of yet another verb or accidentally misgender a noun, and spend the rest of the class stewing over how awful he is at German.

The pattern continues to repeat itself until Friday, when Roberto’s curiosity finally gets the better of him. As Sieg pops up from behind Herr Mourgent’s desk and dusts himself off, Roberto asks, “Why is that girl after you, anyway?”

“She thinks that we’re lovers from thousands of years ago that got reincarnated into this world.” Sieg crosses the room, takes off his backpack, and flops into his chair. Roberto shoots him a skeptical glance. “What? That’s what  _ she _ says!” he protests, as he leans down to rummage through his bag for his German notebook.

“That’s pretty creepy,” Roberto states matter-of-factly.

“I know, right?” Sieg groans. “Like, she says we’re fated to be together, and that’s just—” He shudders. “Nothing’s decided at the beginning of our lives like that! You can’t just say that people are fated to be together!”

Roberto grimaces and observes, “No wonder you’re hiding. If that girl was after me, I’d probably do anything to get her off my back.” He turns back to his German textbook, hoping that this time around, the difference between  _ Städte _ and  _ Stätte _ will sink into his skull.

* * *

 

Later, Sieg will pinpoint this as the exact moment that he had his genius idea. The idea tumbles out of his mouth seconds later, not yet fully formed but substantial enough to sound plausible to his ears.

“Hey, pretend to date me for a while. Just so she’ll get off my back.”

“W-What?!” Roberto sputters. He turns around to face Sieg so quickly, Sieg is amazed he doesn’t get whiplash. “Where did you even come up with that idea?!”

“Wait, are you dating someone? ‘Cause if so, I’m sorry, that’s my bad for not checking first—”

“I—I’m not, but that’s not the point! We barely know each other, and you’re asking me to date you?!”

“ _ Fake  _ date,” Sieg explains patiently. “I mean,  _ I _ wouldn’t like, actually date someone I barely know either, but I’m kinda desperate here. You saw Maybelle this week, didn’t ya?”

“Don’t you have friends that would fake date you?” Roberto asks, spinning his pen around his thumb. The tips of his ears are pink, and he’s not looking Sieg in the eye.

“Well, Liu is ‘not dating’ Len-Lien but he’s totally into her, Jale is my best friend but there are just some things you don’t ask best friends to do, and Marica is literally my adopted sister and that’d be gross.” Sieg ticks his friends off his fingers as he names them. “Also, she’s dating Jale, so I can’t date either of them anyway, I don’t think they’re into polyamory.”

Roberto blinks once, twice, carefully considers the offer. Sieg gets the feeling that he has no idea who Liu, Jale, and Marica are. “What would I even get out of this?” he finally asks. “I’m not the kind of guy who’d do this kind of thing out of the goodness of my heart, you know.”

“I’ll tutor you in German.” At this, Roberto looks up, startled, and Sieg mentally pumps his fist—he knew that information would come in handy. Now that he’s gained momentum, he steamrolls forward before Roberto can say anything else. “You’ve been struggling, right? And that midterm next week is supposed to be a killer. So I’ll help you catch up, pull up your grades, and Maybelle will think we’re dating and stop hanging all over me. Everybody wins!”

* * *

 

The offer of German tutoring is  _ really _ tempting—although Roberto hates to admit it, Sieg’s grasp on the language far exceeds his own. German comes naturally to Sieg, while these days, German for Roberto is like hitting his head repeatedly against a brick wall and hoping it won’t hurt the next time around. Furthermore, the majority of the German tutors at Ratselhaft are students in German 3, idealistic juniors who think tutoring will look great on their college applications. Very few of the students stay on to tutor through German 4, exhausted by the freshmen continually questioning the difference between  _ spielst  _ and  _ spielen _ . (To be fair, Roberto himself still questions the difference sometimes. This is probably one of the many reasons why he’s struggling.) It’s hard to find anyone out there who has the time, the knowledge, and the motivation to tutor a German 4 student.

He knows that people date each other out of convenience every once in a while. People even  _ marry  _ each other out of convenience—take Danash, the CEO of the Janam Corporation. He has  _ three wives _ , and Roberto is pretty sure that none of them married him solely based on his looks or his personality. So in the greater scheme of things, fake-dating Sieg wouldn’t be so bad. Not if it gets him out of Ratselhaft and into college.

“Fine. But even if we’re pretending to date, we’re going  _ nowhere _ near the SD corner,” Roberto says, after a prolonged pause. The SD corner is located in one of the back staircases that is hardly ever used during lunch and passing periods. There’s a heart drawn on the wall in permanent marker with “S+D” scrawled inside—the real names of S and D have been lost to time, but the story goes that they were in love, but his parents wanted him to marry someone else, and eventually they ended up eloping straight out of high school. The story sounds like it’s straight out of one of the horrible daytime dramas Fredegund loves, but these days, the corner is more of a prime makeout spot than a testament to the power of true love. “PDA is absolutely off the table. The most I’m ever gonna do in public is hold your hand. Got it?”

“Fair enough. Let’s shake on it.” Sieg holds his hand out, and Roberto takes it and shakes it firmly, trying to shake off the feeling that he’s just signed part of his life away.  _ Herr _ Mourgent enters the classroom just then, putting an end to their conversation. “Let’s meet up after school for tutoring, then! See ya later, Roberto!” Sieg says cheerily, like he hasn’t just made a contract to date someone he barely knows.

* * *

 

After school, Sieg tells Jale, Marica, and Liu to go on ahead—“I have to tutor someone for German,” he says, and it’s not a lie, not really. He sits down at a table in a corner far from the window (just in case Maybelle happens to pass by) and spreads his papers out on the table in some vague semblance of productivity.

Five minutes go by, then ten. Just as Sieg starts to worry that Roberto won’t show up, Roberto flops down in the seat across from Sieg and immediately asks, “So what’s our story? If someone—”  _ Maybelle _ , he means, though it goes unsaid between the two of them—“asks how we got together, what are we supposed to tell them?”

“Uh,” Sieg says very eloquently. He hadn’t thought this far ahead, honestly—this is why Liu and Marica are usually the ones who make the plans within their group.

“You really didn’t think this plan through, did you?” Roberto looks like he’s intensely regretting his decision, but Sieg figures the lure of German tutoring must really be getting to him. Instead of just getting up and leaving, he just sighs, slumps back in his seat, and crosses his arms. “Fine. Let’s think of a story.”

“Okay, uh…” Sieg thinks deeply for a minute. “Well, we did a project together in German class in September, yeah? Maybe we can build something off of that.” The project in question had been a simple dialogue to introduce themselves to each other, and subsequently the class. Sieg doesn’t actually remember any of the facts he learned about Roberto during that dialogue, but he figures it’s as good a place to start as any. Roberto doesn’t seem to have any better ideas, because he says, “We can start from there, I guess.”

Fifteen minutes of trying to hash out a backstory leaves them in a significantly less optimistic place.

“Ugh, this is such a load of bullshit,” Roberto groans, putting his head down on the table. Ms. Diadora, the librarian, gives him a death glare as she passes by, and hisses, “ _ Shhh. _ ” As she returns to her desk, Roberto glares at her retreating back and mumbles sullenly, “I can’t even convince  _ myself _ . How are we supposed to convince someone as determined as Maybelle?”

“We’ll never know if we can do it until we try!” Sieg says, but his voice sounds a little bit strained. “Listen, maybe we can go home, think about this, and try to figure it out tomorrow? Actually, wait! Can I get your number?” Roberto stares at him, unimpressed, until Sieg points out, “How am I supposed to date you if I don’t even have your number?”

Forced to concede this point, Roberto rattles off his phone number and watches with a completely unimpressed look on his face as Sieg puts in his name as  _ ROBERTO _ , followed by a series of emoji. Roberto’s phone buzzes moments later with a text saying  _ hey babe _ . The number of kissy-face emojis that follows is borderline obscene. Roberto flips Sieg off, picks his things up, and marches out the door.

* * *

 

Although Roberto’s day has reached unprecedented heights of weirdness, it ends pretty normally. After he exits the library, he sprints down to the school bus, scrambling onto the bus just a minute before the bus driver pulls out of the parking lot. As the bus rattles its way down the street, he takes the time to save Sieg’s number under  _ sieg _ ; after a few minutes of consideration, he appends a blue heart emoji to the contact name. Twenty minutes later, he gets off at the Janam Corporation office buildings. After taking a moment to plug his earbuds into his ears and select some good music, he zips up his jacket and walks the few remaining blocks to the brick building that houses the Night’s Veil Kendo Dojo and his tiny apartment.

The group of people Roberto lives with isn’t his family, but these days, it’s as good as it gets.

He lives in a tiny apartment above the dojo with five other people. There’s Chrodechild, who is like Roberto's older sister and role model and idol rolled up into one tall, blonde, sword-wielding package. She's the eldest daughter of the former Night's Veil dojo owners, and inherited the place upon their untimely death three years ago. Then, there’s her sister Fredegund, who is a slightly shorter, blonde, sword-wielding woman who loves her sister more than anything in the entire world.

Meruvis is the best swordsman at the dojo, bar none, although if he’s asked, he’ll always deflect the compliment and say that Chrodechild is truly more skilled than he is. He has the misfortune of being Roberto’s roommate. At twenty-seven, he has quite the mature head on his shoulders, and usually uses it to talk Roberto down from any hotheaded ideas he might voice in their room. He’s loyal to Chrodechild and Fredegund beyond all reason; Roberto is pretty sure that if either sister ever decides to date, Meruvis will be the one who quietly does background checks on the man fortunate enough to attract their affections.

Finally, there are Amaralicht and Quillard, two brothers who, over the few years Roberto’s been living with them, have become like (annoying) younger brothers to him. As he enters the dojo’s back room, they both look up and wave at him from where they’re doing homework at the plastic table. Stowing his backpack in one of the lockers in the back, he grabs his uniform and heads off to get changed.

With his uniform on and his bamboo shinai in his hands, the world feels right again. Everything outside this dojo could go crazy (and this day has been crazier than most), but at least he has kendo to fall back on at the end of the day. He emerges into the main room, where a room full of ten-year-old faces look at him eagerly. “ _ Konnichiwa, sensei! _ ” they chorus, with a respectful bow. 

“ _ Konnichiwa _ ,” he replies, and falls into the rhythm of teaching the kids’ kendo classes as easily as breathing. Class goes by in a blur, and Roberto manages to forget about the weirdness of his day for the hour he spends with the ten-year-olds.

Unfortunately, kendo only provides a temporary escape; after class ends, Sieg texts him,  _ did u figure anything out yet??? _

Roberto stares blankly at his phone for a moment before it dings with a follow-up message:  _ im stuck lol _ .

“Who are you texting?” Quillard asks, as he pushes past Roberto with a package of pasta in his hands. Behind him, Amaralicht hums cheerfully as he chops up vegetables. Chrodechild, Fredegund, and Meruvis are still downstairs with the adult classes, but they’ll be done in about half an hour.

“No one,” Roberto says automatically.

“Doesn’t look like no one,” Quillard says, dumping the pasta into a pot of boiling water. Roberto steps back out of habit, as the pasta slides into the pot with a splash. Quillard continues, blissfully aware of the boiling water splashing in Roberto’s direction, “You  _ never _ text anyone.”

“It’s for class.”

Thankfully, Quillard believes him; as he turns back to the pasta with a frown, Roberto takes the opportunity to shoot a quick text back.

> **ROBERTO💋😘😍💞 [06:31 PM]**
> 
> _ Maybe you confessed your love to me. Really dramatically. _
> 
> **sieg❤ [06:31 PM]**
> 
> _ wth is this a romcom???? _
> 
> **ROBERTO💋😘😍💞 [06:33 PM]**
> 
> _ Technically, you did ask me out first. _

“You must have a really good group this time around,” Amaralicht says lightly. “You usually don’t smile when you’re messaging about school.”

Roberto scowls. In his hand, his phone dings with a message from Sieg:  _ u win this round.  _ A row of frowny faces follows, accompanied by a single kissy face emoji. Roberto briefly debates the merits of sending back the middle finger emoji; eventually, he sends a single side-eye emoji.

“You text so slowly. What a grandpa,” Quillard scoffs, stirring the noodles. A little more water splashes over the sides of the pot. Out of the corner of his eye, Roberto sees Amaralicht reflexively reach out to stop Quillard, before Quillard stirs a little more vigorously and boiling water goes splashing in Amaralicht’s direction. Amaralicht jerks his hand back in the nick of time.

“Can you please  _ slow down _ —” Amaralicht pleads, unheard, as Roberto shoots back, “You’re just saying that because you use every abbreviation possible! I can barely understand what you’re saying half of the time.”

“Keep up, old-timer,” Quillard says cheerfully, and slows his stirring by a miniscule amount. Roberto rolls his eyes and gets up to help Amaralicht with the pasta sauce.

* * *

 

Over a series of texts throughout the following week, Sieg and Roberto iron out the logistics of their backstory, and manage to fit in some German tutoring on the side. With the help of a couple of study sessions, Roberto earns a C+ on the German midterm, pulling his grade from a D+ to a C-, and begrudgingly becomes friends with the dumbass who has appointed himself his fake boyfriend. To be fair, it’s very hard to hate Sieg when he’s so damn  _ friendly _ .

Amaralicht and Quillard find out about Roberto’s situation by blatantly reading his texts over his shoulder. “If you texted faster, maybe I wouldn’t have caught it,” Quillard says unapologetically, while Amaralicht gushes “Wow, you’re literally living the plot of a romcom!” On the other hand, Sieg lets Jale, Marica, and Liu know right away – “I took your advice, Liu!” he beams, and Marica puts her face in her hands. If Roberto notices the group of sophomores who pop up a little more frequently as he walks to his classes, he doesn’t let on. Eventually, Sieg’s friends conclude that Sieg could’ve done worse (although  _ some  _ come to this conclusion with more reluctance than others. “Jale, it’s  _ fine _ ,” Marica sighs one day, “I don’t think he’s a serial killer, and Sieg can handle himself with anything less than that.”)

Determined as ever, Maybelle continues to chase after Sieg; Roberto starts flat-out ignoring Maybelle every time she storms through the door of their classroom; Sieg takes it upon himself to clean up his hiding place, and Herr Mourgent is pleasantly surprised to find that the area behind his desk is much less dusty than it was before.

Each day, as Maybelle stands in the doorway glaring at Roberto, Sieg usually uses this opportunity to text Roberto his latest terrible idea. 

> **sieg❤ [01:31 PM]**
> 
> _ what if this time _
> 
> **ROBERTO💋😘😍💞 [01:31 PM]**
> 
> _ I’m going to stop you right there _
> 
> **sieg❤ [01:31 PM]**
> 
> _ u told maybelle that u were madly in love with me _
> 
> _ perhaps then she would leave u alone _
> 
> **ROBERTO💋😘😍💞 [01:32 PM]**
> 
> _ Or perhaps she would murder me on the spot _
> 
> _ I’m not doing this shit without you around _
> 
> _ Also you being behind Herr Mourgent’s desk does not count as “being around” _
> 
> **sieg❤ [01:32 PM]**
> 
> _!!!!! _
> 
> _ Omg babe u do care  _ **❤❤❤❤❤**
> 
> **sieg❤ [01:34 PM]**
> 
> _ haha babe ur blushing _
> 
> **ROBERTO💋😘😍💞 [01:35 PM]**
> 
> _Call me_ “ _babe” one more time and I’m gonna bash your kneecaps in_
> 
> **sieg❤ [01:34 PM]**
> 
> _ ok but for real ur doin better in german now  _
> 
> _ we gotta work on this whole fake dating thing!!! _

“Why are you smiling at your phone? What are you looking at?” Maybelle demands. A faint, muffled snort comes from behind Herr Mourgent’s desk. Roberto steadfastly ignores her and his dumbass fake boyfriend, and texts Sieg,  _ We can talk about it after school. We still need to work on that homework. _

* * *

 

After school, they meet in the library for an actual productive study session. Herr Mourgent’s latest torture involves writing a dialogue completely in German about two friends going out to eat. Sieg coaches Roberto through translating their assigned dialogue from English to German. After the two of them break out in laughter one too many times, Ms. Diadora affixes them with her most terrifying glare; after that, they try to work in silence, passing notes back and forth in German over the Google doc they’re writing their dialogue on.

_ Ihre Grammatik ist schrecklich _ , Sieg comments, on a line where Roberto’s character attempts to order  _ ein Apfelkuchen _ in mangled grammar.

_ Arschloch _ , Roberto replies eloquently. (Sieg has learned, over the past week of tutoring, that this is one of the few German phrases Roberto can say with complete confidence.)

A couple of hours later, Roberto still isn’t quite satisfied with the dialogue – “there is absolutely no way I’m gonna remember this dialogue, and you know it” – but Sieg pulls him out of the library, declaring, “Babe, my brain is going to explode if I have to walk you through another conjugation”. He doesn’t miss the way the tips of Roberto’s ears turn red at the nickname.

They make their way out to the athletic field behind the school, and find a place to sit near the top of the bleachers. On the field, the cheerleaders are running drills while the coach snaps out orders. Behind the bleachers, two of the football players may or may not have their tongues down each other’s throats.  _ Just another typical day at Ratselhaft High _ , Sieg thinks,  _ except for the part where I make up a completely fake history with a guy I only met this year so I can get the new transfer student to stop stalking me. _

Sometimes, he really cannot believe this is his life.

“Okay, so our backstory…” he starts out hesitantly.

“We met in German class,” Roberto begins, “we got partnered up for that project at the beginning of the year, you thought I was cute but you were intimidated, I thought you were cute but didn’t want to say anything because you’re an underclassman, and eventually a week ago you accidentally confessed because you thought you were texting your friend but you sent the text to me instead.” He ticks each item off on his fingers, looking like he’s rehearsed this speech a couple of times before. (Maybe he has.)

Sieg had expected this meeting to be somewhat of a dead end, perhaps even a repeat of their first discussion in the library, but he’s pleasantly surprised. “That… actually sounds good.”

“Thanks,” Roberto shrugs. “I can’t take credit – Amaralicht came up with the idea. He loves romcoms.”

“Tell him I said thank you,” Sieg says sincerely. “Okay, so if we’re officially fake dating now, we probably have to show it somehow, right?”

Immediately, Roberto snaps, “I’m still not visiting the SD corner with you.”

Sieg puts his hands up defensively, leaning back a little bit. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, I meant like holding hands or something!” 

After a prolonged and slightly awkward silence, Roberto mumbles, “I guess that’s fine,” and extends his hand. It rests in the space between them for a second before Sieg catches the hint and picks Roberto’s hand up, entwining his fingers with his. The tips of Roberto’s ears turn red again.

“Haha, is this the first time anyone’s ever held your hand, babe?”

“Shut  _ up _ .” 

Sieg’s eyes widen for a moment before a grin spreads across his face. “Oh my god, it totally  _ is _ .”

“The ‘bashing your kneecaps in’ threat still applies here,  _ darling _ ,” Roberto mutters venomously.

* * *

They hold hands all the way out to the parking lot, and exchange a brief and awkward hug before they part ways; Roberto heads toward the bus, and Sieg crosses the street and hops into the front seat of the family car. By virtue of being the oldest and therefore the only one licensed to drive without an adult in the car, Liu is the one driving; Jale and Marica are crammed into the backseat with a bunch of supplies for the cafe, probably left there by Dirk after their latest supply run. Once Liu pulls away from the curb, an awkward silence fills the car, with Jale and Marica sneaking glances at him through the rearview mirror.

“What? Why are you all staring?” asks Sieg. Jale and Marica seem to have some kind of silent argument that involves a lot of elbowing and mouthing  _ No,  _ you  _ tell him _ ; Marica appears to lose, because she sighs and says, “Look, no one is going to believe you’re dating if you just give each other bro hugs. That’s like—pardon the expression—the biggest  _ no homo _ thing you can do.”

“It  _ is _ ‘no homo’, though,” Sieg argues. “I’m pansexual, remember?”

“She means Maybelle won’t believe you’re dating,” Jale chimes in. “You have to play it up. Go big or go home.”

“We are going home,” Liu points out, switching his turn signal on and checking the rearview mirror nervously.

Jale shrugs expressively and says, “Then you gotta go big.”

Liu rolls his eyes. “Hey, if I switch lanes right now, will I cut this guy off?” he asks, eyes flickering back and forth between the rearview mirror and the road.

Jale turns to crane his head at the pickup rapidly approaching them and advises, “Just wait for him to pass.”

“Look, no one’s saying you have to make out with him in the SD corner or anything,” Marica continues, as Jale talks Liu through the painstaking process of switching lanes. “But you know Maybelle. She won’t believe you two are dating, because no one’s ever seen you hanging out outside of school. You barely even talk to each other while you’re there! You only text each other.”

Which, okay, she has a fair point. As previously mentioned, Ratselhaft High is very tiny, and gossip is one of the precious necessities of survival, right up there with cafeteria food, your own water bottle, and a locker anywhere but the third floor. Sieg realizes right then and there that if he wants to make this lie believable, he’s going to have to work harder.

* * *

> **sieg❤ [07:34 PM]**
> 
> _ ok so next step  _
> 
> _ we need to be seen in public _
> 
> _ for believability _
> 
> **ROBERTO💋😘😍💞 [07:41 PM]**
> 
> _ Okay so what do we have to do _
> 
> **sieg❤ [07:41 PM]**
> 
> _ wanna get coffee tmo?? _
> 
> _ my treat since ur pullin ur grades up so well  _ 😘
> 
> _ u have a c in german now!!! one of these days u might not even need me!!!! _
> 
> **ROBERTO💋😘😍💞 [07:43 PM]**
> 
> _ It’s a C- actually _
> 
> **sieg❤ [07:44 PM]**
> 
> _ take the frickin compliment babe _
> 
> **ROBERTO💋😘😍💞 [07:46 PM]**
> 
> _ Shut the frick up, darling _
> 
> _ Anyway I’m free after 6 tomorrow if that works for you _
> 
> _ I gotta teach classes at the dojo until then _
> 
> **sieg❤ [07:47 PM]**
> 
> _ it’s a date <3  _

* * *

At five minutes past six, Sieg shows up in front of the Night’s Veil kendo dojo. Roberto emerges a minute later, freshly showered, with the tired look of someone who has just spent the past hour fighting for his life but is very casual about it. 

“I taught the ten-year-olds today,” he says, when Sieg asks him. “They wanted to try battling me.”

They cross the street to the Citro Café and find a small table, tucked away in the corner. A line of people ordering food to go stretches from the counter to the door; dinnertime at the café is always busy, and Sieg takes a minute to be grateful that he’s not working today. As Roberto opens his menu, Sieg pulls out his phone and checks his Snapchat. When he sees a snap from Jale, who’s out with Marica enjoying their evening off, he’s hit with a flash of inspiration. “Hey, take a selfie with me, Roberto! Nothing says ‘date’ like a cheesy couple photo together, am I right?”

“I never look good in selfies,” Roberto grouses, but it’s too late; Sieg’s already opened up his camera app and is extending his arm out, trying to find a good angle. He leans across the table to get Roberto in the frame and snaps a photo of the two of them; in the photo, Sieg is grinning and flashing a peace sign, while Roberto’s face is stuck in its usual scowl. 

As Sieg flicks through the filters, debating the merits of Valencia over Rise, Roberto squints at his phone and says critically, “That’s the least artistic Instagram photo I’ve ever seen.”

“Shut up, it’ll probably get more likes than anything  _ you’d _ ever post,” Sieg retorts, tapping out a quick caption—“Café with bae @robertoasat0”—and appending an assortment of heart emojis, ignoring Roberto mumbling “I never even post on Instagram and I can tell you that’s awful” and “That is absolutely sickening” in the background. A few taps of the screen set the photo to crosspost to Facebook, and within seconds, it’s out on the Internet for all his friends to see. When Roberto stops mumbling, he looks up, ready to tease him some more, only to find him staring with narrowed eyes at a blonde and a redhead at the counter.

“Huh? Do you know them?” Sieg asks. The blonde orders a box of doughnuts, and the redhead orders something inaudible; they seem to have some kind of argument before the blonde triumphantly slides her credit card across the counter. Dirk, behind the register, looks vaguely bemused by the entire situation, but takes the card and inserts it into their chip reader.

“That’s Chrodechild, but who’s that guy with her?” Roberto asks suspiciously.

“Oh!” Sieg says, eyes widening in recognition. “That’s Asad. I think he works for Janam Corp or something? He comes in here for coffee a lot. Always sits by the window, right there.” He gestures toward the counter by the window, now filled with students attempting to do homework. Their view of Asad and Chrodechild is momentarily blocked by Sisuca, who takes their orders – spaghetti for Sieg, a katsudon bowl for Roberto – and bustles off to help another customer. 

As Asad picks up two to-go cups of coffee from the counter and hands one to Chrodechild, Roberto hisses, “Are they on a date?!” Sieg can’t help it; he starts giggling at the scandalized look on Roberto’s face. “Stop that, why are you giggling?! This is serious!”

“If you keep being so noisy, they’ll definitely notice we’re here,” Sieg replies, trying (and failing) to keep the grin off his face. “Besides, I’m pretty sure that’s not a date.” Roberto shoots him a glare and mumbles something mutinously, but schools his expression into something more neutral and quiets down. Sisuca returns to their table with their orders in hand, and Asad and Chrodechild leave the cafe, none the wiser to Roberto and Sieg’s presence in the corner.

“Chrodechild hasn’t been on a date for… well, at least three years,” Roberto says a minute later. “So I guess I freaked out a bit.”

“Three years? Wow, that’s a long time,” Sieg says around a mouthful of spaghetti. Sisuca, passing by, sees him talking with his mouth full and shoots him a death glare; Sieg waves back cheerily, swallows his food, and continues the conversation. “So, is she your older sister or something?”

“Chrodechild?” Roberto pauses, mulls his words over before he says anything else. “No. She and her sister took me in three years ago, right after I finished freshman year.” 

“Gee, that’s awful nice of them. And let me guess, she didn’t date anyone because dealing with baby sophomore Roberto was putting enough on her plate, huh?”

“Need I remind you that you’re a sophomore too,  _ darling _ ?” Roberto says, saccharine sweet, and that’s the end of that conversation.

* * *

It’s a little bit more complicated than “dealing with baby sophomore Roberto”, Roberto thinks later, after Sieg drops him off at the front door of the dojo. There were so many different parts to the story, he didn’t think he could fit them all into one dinner (much less a “first date”, which was more or less what that evening had been).

Here is how the story goes:

Chrodechild’s, Roberto’s, and Amaralicht and Quillard’s parents had been friends since before any of them were ever born. Roberto grew up seeing Chrodechild and Fredegund as somewhat akin to cool older cousins, and had been in the Night’s Veil kendo dojo ever since he could hold a blade. Amaralicht and later Quillard became like his younger brothers; his parents and their parents would watch the boys on alternate weekends so that all three boys were babysat, and both sets of parents retained their sanity. 

The parents had a tradition—also stretching back to before any of their children’s births—of taking a weekend camping trip out to the Wilds of Veile every summer. There had been a few years when one set of parents had to miss the camping trip—births of children, deaths in the family, sickness—but overall, every year, they managed to scrape up the money to hire a babysitter (or later on, give a beleaguered teenage Chrodechild some extra allowance) and went off together to adventure throughout the wilds. Their beloved tradition went on year by year without a hitch, until two weeks after Roberto finished his freshman year of high school, when a landslide in the Wilds of Veile wiped all their parents out in a hiking accident.

The summer after that went by in a blur of funerals and social workers and paperwork; Chrodechild battled in court for the right to keep custody of Roberto, Amaralicht, and Quillard instead of separating them and sending them off into foster care; Fredegund battled with extreme depression; Roberto remembers being incandescently angry for most of the summer, lashing out at anything that rubbed him the wrong way. Throughout that entire hellish summer, Roberto doesn’t ever remember seeing Chrodechild falter once; she just kept going and going and going. Fredegund likes to joke that Chrodechild’s the Nani to her Lilo—she’s a sucker for Disney movies—but Roberto thinks it’s an accurate description. For the past three years, Chrodechild has been the exhausted Nani to their collective Lilo – weird quirks, temper tantrums, arguments, depression, and all.

Chrodechild’s main job, for the past three years, has been keeping their family together. So maybe it’s time for her to have something to herself.

With that in mind, Roberto doesn’t know if he should bring up Asad or not. Whatever Sieg might have said, Roberto is all too familiar with the lovestruck look on that guy’s face—Chrodechild hasn’t been on a date in the past three years, but it’s not for lack of interest. If that meeting in the café wasn’t a date, Asad sure would have liked it to be.

(The box of doughnuts Chrodechild bought turns out to be for him, Amaralicht, and Quillard. Roberto grudgingly accepts these as a peace offering, although he’s sure Chrodechild doesn’t even know he was at the cafe, and decides not to ask about it for now.)

* * *

The first week of November arrives with a vengeance, bringing ten inches of snow with it. That Monday, Roberto wakes up to an alert saying school is cancelled, rolls over, and goes back to sleep. An hour later, Roberto’s phone buzzes with an email notification, awakening him once again to notify him that his German test on Wednesday will proceed as scheduled, despite their loss of a class day. This galvanizes him to finally roll out of bed—his grade is teetering on the edge of a B, and if he uses today to study, maybe he can finally pull it up.

_ u can come over and we can study _ , Sieg texts him around nine o’clock. A second later, another text comes in:  _ wait no selens in town and she and jale will be training here all day, can i come over instead??? _

_ Who is Selen _ , Roberto types, as Fredegund pokes her head into his room. Her blonde hair is done up in a messy bun and she’s wearing a tank top and old Astrasia University sweats, a sharp contrast to her usual training outfit. Usually by this point in the day, she’s fully dressed and about to start the morning classes. “We’re cancelling classes at the dojo today,” she says matter-of-factly. “Chrodechild’s been on the phone with cancellations for the past half hour, so we’ve decided to just close down for the day. Enjoy your snow day.”

“Thanks,” Roberto replies, and turns his attention back to his phone.  _ But sure I guess _ , he texts back. Eyeing the state of his room critically, he adds,  _ See you in an hour? _

_ sounds good _ , Sieg texts back, and appends a handful of thumbs up emoji.

* * *

 

Their emergency German study session lasts for three hours and twenty-seven minutes before both of them get tired of studying—Roberto swears his head will literally explode if he has to memorize one more verb, and Sieg is a patient guy, but he  _ is _ fifteen years old, and can only keep going for so long before he needs a break.

So they break for lunch, where Roberto digs through the fridge and pantry and realizes that they’re very overdue for a trip to the grocery store. Perhaps they should have stocked up before the snow actually hit, but classes were so exhausting yesterday that no one wanted to brave the pre-storm crowds to go shopping.

“Well, we have cup noodles,” he says. “And we can pop popcorn or something.”

“Cup noodles and microwave popcorn. Man, Roberto, you sure do know how to treat a guy, don’tcha?”

“The door is that way if this isn’t enough for Your Highness,” Roberto snarks. 

Sieg just laughs. “The café is open today, ya know,” he points out. “We could just cross the street and get something.”

“It’s  _ cold _ , though.” Roberto gestures expansively at the window, where the snow continues to fall from the sky. “I’m not stepping outside this apartment today unless I absolutely have to.”

“Cup noodles it is, then!” Sieg declares, and moves toward the kitchen, only for Roberto to throw out his arm, stopping him in his tracks.

“Go sit down, you ass, you’re a guest here. I can make you a cup noodle on my own.” 

“Wow, what a gentleman! Love you too, babe!”

“There is literally no one here to fake this for. And if you ever call me babe in private again, we are breaking up,” Roberto snaps, although the tips of his ears are slightly pink. The threat rolls off Sieg like water off a duck’s back; he shrugs, a grin still on his face, and flops on the couch. As Roberto heads into the kitchen to boil water, Sieg scoops up the TV remote and clicks through Netflix. He flips through a few pages of movies and cartoons before pausing at one title.

“Have you seen  _ The Rune of Punishment _ ?” he calls into the kitchen. “Jale and Marica have been binge-watchin’ it lately, but they won’t watch with me ‘cause I’ve only seen one episode. Wanna help me catch up with them?”

Roberto emerges from the kitchen with a steaming cup noodle in each hand. “I haven’t seen it,” he says, carefully setting the cup noodles down on the table and pulling two sets of chopsticks out of the pocket of his sweatshirt. “What’s it about?”

“It’s like, there’s this huge, all-controlling empire trying to invade all these island nations—”

“That just sounds like world history,” Roberto mutters, peeling the lid off his own cup noodle..

“—but this young knight gets magic powers when someone dies, and then he fights the empire.”

“Sounds cool. I’m in,” Roberto says, and then, looking over at their pile of textbooks and flashcards, he adds, “Can you quiz me one more time after lunch, though?”

* * *

 

“I am going to  _ strangle _ Snowe Vingerhut,” Roberto declares with vigor after three hours of  _ The Rune of Punishment _ . Their German textbooks and flashcards lie forgotten on the table, abandoned in favor of finding out what happened when the Dread Pirate Brandeau attacked. “He just  _ ran away _ ? What kind of friend is that?”

“He  _ sucks _ , right?” Quillard says, emerging from his and Amaralicht’s shared room. “Also, Chrodechild called, she’s getting takeout for dinner. Oh, hey, Sieg!”

Amaralicht comes out on Quillard’s heels, arguing, “He gets better later in the series! It’s  _ such  _ a good redemption arc, you just have to keep watching. Hi, Sieg, are you staying for dinner?”

“Uh, if that’s all right,” Sieg says. Judging by what he’s learned about Sieg’s family so far, Roberto assumes this politeness was most likely forced upon him by Sisuca. Amaralicht reassures Sieg that it’s fine, they always buy too much food anyway, and Quillard sets an extra place at the table. Roberto realizes suddenly that this means Sieg will be meeting what is for all intents and purposes his family, and takes a second to shoot a prayer to whatever powers there be that no one will say or do anything completely embarrassing.

Chrodechild returns to the apartment fifteen minutes later with two plastic bags full of steaming containers of takeout from the Citro Café. Meruvis and Fredegund take their seats at the table. Setting the takeout containers out on the table, Chrodechild explains, “Fredegund didn’t want to walk too far in the snow, so we just went across the street. Oh! Haven’t I seen you at the cafe before?” This last question is directed toward Sieg, who grins and says, “Yeah! I’m Sieg. I’m Roberto’s –”

“Sieg’s tutoring me in German,” Roberto interrupts, trying not to let on that he’s panicking; he does  _ not  _ want to explain anything about his fake love life to Meruvis and Fredegund, much less Chrodechild. As Chrodechild takes a seat, Roberto stomps on Sieg’s foot under the table, and continues, “He came over to help me study today.” To his credit, Sieg barely lets it show on his face. Maybe he’s used to people stomping on his feet. 

“Thank you for helping him,” Meruvis says solemnly to Sieg. “I was helping him with German before you came along, and that was… difficult, to say the least.”

“Hey!” Roberto protests, as his ears slowly turn bright red.  _ That prayer  _ obviously  _ didn’t work _ , he thinks. A few seats over from him, Quillard’s definitely snickering, and there’s a smirk spreading across Sieg’s face.

Amaralicht skillfully changes the subject, asking Sieg about his work at the Citro Café. The conversation turns to the takeout food arrayed across the table, and as Roberto slowly recovers from his embarrassment, Sieg animatedly explains how Rajim, the owner of the cafe and Marica and Sisuca’s dad, found him took him in when he was just a baby. He works at the cafe now to earn some pocket money; Rajim lets him keep his tips, and teaches him how to cook on the side – “although he probably regrets it,” Sieg adds, “I’m a terrible cook. That’s why I usually work register.”

“Ah, that’s where I remember you from,” Chrodechild nods. “I think you were there the last time I came in.”

“Oh, yeah, you were with Asad, right? He’s one of our regulars,” Sieg says, blithely missing the way Meruvis’s and Fredegund’s eyes sharpen. “He’s a nice guy! Tips real well.”

A few minutes into that line of conversation, Roberto realizes that Sieg actually knows exactly what he’s doing; the focus of the conversation shifts away from them and onto Chrodechild, who willingly provides them with some information about Asad – he’s a few years older than Chrodechild; he works for the Janam Corporation directly under Shairah, the COO; he and Chrodechild met because they were using machines next to each other at the gym, and both wanted to get shakes at the Citro Café afterwards – and yet, very smoothly, she avoids stating exactly what her relationship with Asad is. Once the conversation meanders away from him and Sieg, Sieg catches Roberto’s eye and shoots him a wink and a smile. Although it’s the cheesiest thing, and seems like it came out of a terrible romcom, Roberto finds himself relaxing.  

The rest of dinner goes by quickly. Sieg chats with Roberto’s family like he’s known them for ages, and after dinner, they send him off with an open invitation to come over anytime. Roberto walks him out to the street in front of the dojo, where Liu, Jale, and Marica are crammed into the family car, giving Roberto the stinkeye through the window (okay, that’s mostly Jale), and gives him a convincing hug goodbye.

Roberto climbs the stairs back to their apartment. As he reaches the kitchen, Fredegund says, “He’s a good kid,” and hands the last of their dishes to Meruvis to dry. “You know, if you were dating him, you’d have my approval.”

Over Roberto’s spluttering, Meruvis seconds her, “Mine as well. Anyone who’s willing to tutor you in German must really like you a lot.” 

“We are  _ not dating _ ,” Roberto grumbles, but nobody pays attention to him.

* * *

Although he denies that they’re actually dating, Roberto does understand the importance of putting on appearances. So, one Friday, he asks Sieg, “Do you want to go to the movies after school?” It’s free period, and they’re sitting in  _ Herr  _ Mourgent’s classroom eating piping-hot cinnamon twists from the cafeteria. They’ve made a halfhearted attempt to review some of their German vocabulary, but the conversation, as usual, has turned to different topics, and the notecards Roberto made last night lie scattered on their desks, forgotten. “ _ Flame Bringer _ is out, and Amaralicht and Quillard don’t want to see it, so I figured I’d ask you.”

Sieg polishes off the last of his cinnamon twist and licks the last of the icing off his fingers. Frowning, he asks, “Is that the one about the Flame Champion? I didn’t realize it was out already!”

“Yeah, it just came out today.” Roberto slides his phone across the table to show Sieg a list of showtimes. “If we catch the bus right after school gets out, we can probably make the four o’clock showing.”

Sieg widens his eyes dramatically and gasps, “Wait, wait, wait. Roberto, are you asking me on a  _ date _ ?”

“Wow,” Roberto deadpans, an absolutely unimpressed look on his face. “Yeah, I am, isn’t that incredible? It’s not like we’re  _ dating _ or anything.”

“Wow! You actually care!” Sieg clasps his hands over his chest dramatically.

“Keep that up and I’m gonna see this by myself,” Roberto grumbles, but there’s no real threat behind his words. Sieg just grins and says, “All right, I’ll meet you at the flagpole after school gets out. I’ll buy the popcorn!”

They make it to the movie theater with twenty minutes to spare. Neither of them are very enthused by the prospect of twenty minutes of advertisements, so Sieg digs some quarters out of the bottom of his backpack and the two of them start up a fierce game of air hockey. They’re neck and neck with twenty seconds to go when Maybelle passes by them with a group of other girls. The glare Maybelle sends Roberto is mildly terrifying; he’s pretty sure Sieg doesn’t notice, because he’s entirely focused on defending his own goal. While Roberto’s temporarily distracted, Sieg slams the puck into Roberto’s goal just as the timer ticks down to 0. Caught up in his victory celebration, Sieg doesn’t notice Maybelle. Figuring he might as well play up the moment for all it’s worth, Roberto slings an arm around Sieg’s shoulders and says, “C’mon, the movie’s going to start soon. Let’s go grab our seats.”

Maybelle’s glare bores holes in his back from twenty feet away, but personally, Roberto thinks it’s totally worth it.

* * *

 

After watching  _ Flame Bringer  _ together, Sieg and Roberto end up texting back and forth a lot more than before. Every time Sieg finds a  _ Flame Bringer  _ meme on Facebook, he promptly sends it Roberto’s way –  _ If you send me the distracted boyfriend meme with Hugo’s face photoshopped on it one more time _ , Roberto texts once,  _ I WILL dump you.  _ They also continue watching  _ The Rune of Punishment _ , albeit separately, and swap thoughts back and forth as they move through the series. Roberto doesn’t trust Elenor, while Sieg thinks that she’s probably going to end up being really helpful in the long run. In comparison, they don’t talk too much about what’s going on in their lives, which is why Sieg is so surprised when Roberto texts one Wednesday:

> **ROBERTO💋😘😍💞 [05:38 PM]**
> 
> _ Hey _
> 
> _ I have a kendo competition Saturday morning if you want to come watch _
> 
> **sieg❤ [05:38 PM]**
> 
> _!!!!! _
> 
> _ oh HELL yeah i wanna see u frick someone up  _
> 
> **ROBERTO💋😘😍💞 [05:40 PM]**
> 
> _ “Fricking someone up” is definitely against the rules _
> 
> _ But I’ll try to win for you I guess _
> 
> **sieg❤ [05:39 PM]**
> 
> _ wow my fake boyfriend is the best <3 _

Since his shift at the café doesn’t begin until three that Saturday, Sieg decides to go to Roberto’s kendo competition. He’s got nothing else to do that morning, anyway.

(Well, to be honest, he has a lot of things he  _ could  _ be doing, like his reading for English class or his history homework, but he figures he might as well spend his morning pretending to be a good fake boyfriend. Besides, he’s never seen Roberto fight before; if nothing else, at least he’ll learn something else about the guy who’s been pretending to date him for almost two and a half months now.)

He’s passed through the back hallways of the dojo a dozen times before to get to Roberto’s apartment, but he’s never spent a whole lot of time in the dojo itself. It’s a beautiful space, all polished wood floors and a wall of large floor-to-ceiling windows that face out onto the street. If Sieg squints, he can see into the café from here; a telltale shock of red hair in the café window suggests that Asad is there once again, nursing his coffee and staring across the street.

There’s a small crowd of people sitting cross-legged on the floor near the windows—most of them look like students, and in his bright red sweatshirt, Sieg sticks out among the sea of blue uniforms and gleaming black armor. He takes a seat just as Roberto’s match is announced. Roberto and his opponent step out in front of the audience, lower their headgear and bow. He’s surprised—Roberto is  _ good _ . The person he’s fighting has got to be at least five years his senior, judging by the brief look Sieg got at him before both of them put their headgear on. But Roberto parries every strike his opponent makes, accompanying each hit with a loud yell. (Sieg surreptitiously checks his phone during a time-out and finds out that yes, they are supposed to be yelling, that’s not just Roberto being ridiculously angry.) The match is a close one, but with a clever twist of his arm, Roberto slashes at his opponent and catches him on the wrist, scoring the winning point.

“Yeah, Roberto!” Sieg cheers loudly. Quite a few heads turn his way, startled by this outburst; most of them are just clapping politely, if they’re clapping at all. Roberto looks embarrassed, but he turns to wave at Sieg, a smile quirking at the corner of his mouth. Something inside Sieg does some kind of a flip. He chalks it up to being happy that his fake boyfriend is so cool.  _ I could’ve done worse _ , he thinks, and snaps a photo to text to Liu, Marica, and Jale.  _ look _ , he texts,  _ my fake boyfriend kicked someone’s ass this morning!!! _

* * *

After seeing Sieg at his latest competition, Roberto finds himself curious about arnis. Sieg’s mentioned a couple of times that it’s similar in technique to the fighting style the main character in  _ The Rune of Punishment _ uses, and, being a fighter himself, Roberto’s intrigued. So the next Saturday morning, he slips into the gym, makes his way over to the bleachers, sits next to Marica and Liu who wave at him in greeting, and turns his attention to the match that’s about to begin.

There are two fighters on the floor, one in bright red armor and the other in bright blue. Both are holding two sticks, one in each hand, which are about two feet long. They salute to the judges, then salute each other; then, with the formalities out of the way, they proceed to thrash each other. The fighters’ headgear renders them nearly unrecognizable, so Roberto spends a good portion of the first round squinting at the two of them, trying to determine which one is Sieg. Liu takes pity on him after a minute and leans over to point out the smaller contender in red armor. “That one’s Sieg,” he says, and Roberto nods his thanks. The other contender rushes at Sieg, but Sieg uses their momentum against them and deflects their sticks with his own. A twist of his wrist knocks the sticks out of his opponent’s hands, and he wins the round.

Sieg and his opponent dance around each other cautiously, prodding at each other with their sticks, before Sieg spots a gap in the other’s defenses and _strikes_ , swinging his stick mercilessly at any opening he can find. Unlike kendo, arnis is quieter, and the loudest sound in the gym is the sound of the sticks hitting against each other.

Sieg wins the match—Roberto cheers, along with Marica and Liu—and takes off his headgear, setting it aside and crossing the arena to shake his opponent’s hand. His face is flushed and sweaty. Roberto’s brain idly supplies some alternative scenarios that would result in Sieg looking hot and sweaty, and he enjoys the mental image for a brief second before realizing just who he’s picturing, and—

“What the  _ hell _ ,” he says out loud.

“I know, right? I can’t believe he managed to win that match,” Marica gasps, her attention still fixated on the competitors. Liu is a little more suspicious, and sneaks Roberto a sidelong glance before turning back to the fight.

By the end of the competition, Liu’s suspicion seems to be more or less forgotten. He even turns to Roberto to say, “Sisuca says since you’re here you can come over for dinner, if you want.” They pile into the family car, sweaty and hungry, and speed off to the Anand family home, a few blocks away from the cafe.

At dinner, Roberto doesn’t manage to embarrass Sieg  _ nearly _ as much as Sieg embarrassed him the last time he came over. This is in part due to the fact that Sieg is much, much more unflappable than Roberto will ever be; it is also, however, due to the fact that Roberto finds Sieg’s older sister Sisuca completely terrifying, and doesn’t know how much he can get away with. Sieg’s dad is fairly nice, and Dirk, his arnis teacher and surrogate older brother, is a little bit intimidating, but something about Sisuca completely terrifies Roberto. He’d met her at the cafe before, but that was  _ before _ she was grilling him about – his intentions toward her brother? 

_ You are in such a romcom _ , his annoying inner voice that sounds worryingly like Amaralicht says.

“Lay off, sis,” Marica finally rolls her eyes, after Sisuca lets off that particular round of questions. “Roberto’s not going to break Sieg’s heart, and even if he did, I’m sure Sieg could beat him up himself.”

“Not that we’re condoning that,” Liu cuts in, “just so you know.”

“Roberto’s a cool guy,” Jale contributes. Sieg grins at the three of them across the table. (Roberto is extremely grateful Sieg has friends like these.)

It’s dark outside by the time they make it out of Sieg’s house. “I’ll walk you home,” decides Sieg. “Wouldn’t be good to let my boyfriend walk around alone at night!”

“Won’t you be walking home by yourself, though?”

“Liu needs more driving practice anyway,” Sieg shrugs. “I’ll call him and ask him to pick me up.”

The walk home goes by quickly, as they keep up an animated discussion on the latest episodes of  _ The Rune of Punishment _ . When they stop at the front door of the dojo, Sieg beams, “Thanks for coming out to watch me today!” The moonlight highlights his face in a way that seems like it came straight out of a romantic comedy. Roberto’s heart skips a beat, and he clamps his mouth shut before he blurts out something embarrassing like  _ I think I actually  _ like _ you, what the hell _ .

* * *

 

Roberto decides shortly after that fateful arnis match that liking people (more specifically, liking Sieg) is a pain in the neck. Sieg was annoying enough, but now Roberto’s traitorous heart skips a beat every time Sieg beams at him, and that’s even  _ more  _ annoying.

He will admit, however, that it does make pretending to be his fake boyfriend a little bit easier. If he leans just a little bit more into every side hug or enjoys the moments when they sit shoulder to shoulder on his bed, no one ever has to know.

The idea of telling Sieg crosses his mind from time to time. And by that, he means at least once every time they’re together. It’s awful. Literally the worst. But the fake dating seems to be working, and his German grades are climbing upward at a promising rate. 

November turns into December, and their plan seems to be nothing but successful.  _ Herr  _ Mourgent takes him aside after class one day and says to him, “I don’t know what you’re doing, but whatever it is, it’s working. I hope you’ll keep up the good work!”

That afternoon, when he arrives at the dojo, Chrodechild waves him upstairs. “Lathilda’s in the kitchen,” she informs him. “Make it quick, your class starts in half an hour.”

Lathilda is their social worker, a woman with long orange hair and a gentle smile who shows up once every few months to make sure that he, Amaralicht, and Quillard are doing all right. On any given day, at least one of the three of them is pretty far from “all right”, but somehow they’ve been able to stay with Chrodechild and Fredegund for the past three years. The rumor is that Lathilda used to work for Chrodechild’s parents before she went back to school to become a social worker, and if that loyalty alone is keeping the three of them with Chrodechild and Fredegund, Roberto sure isn’t going to complain.

“Hello, Roberto!” Lathilda beams at him. Amaralicht and Quillard are already seated across the table from her; Roberto slides into the chair next to Lathilda and greets her politely. “How is school going? Which universities are you applying to?”

* * *

 

They’re sitting next to each other on Roberto’s bed, German textbooks in front of them and papers spread all around them, when Sieg brings up the point that they’ve been pretending to date each other for four months.

“Four whole months dating and we haven’t even kissed?” he jokes. “Y’know, a lot of high school relationships don’t go this way.”

“We’re not really dating, though,” Roberto is quick to remind him, rolling his eyes. “Besides, you’d probably be a lousy kisser anyway.”

The words are mortifying as soon as they leave his mouth— _ great, now it sounds like I actually spend time contemplating how good he’d be at kissing _ —but Sieg takes them in stride, protesting “I would not! I bet I’d be great!”

“Do you even have any experience?” Roberto scoffs. This is familiar territory—the two of them have found occasion to argue about almost anything under the sun over the course of their three-month “relationship”. Arguing about kissing, while a new topic, is still arguing, and Roberto trusts they’ll forget the discussion in a day or so, like they usually do.

“Not much, but I bet I have more than you,” Sieg shoots back, spinning his pencil around his fingers idly. He’s on the mark with this assumption, although Roberto will never admit it; after the events of freshman year, kendo and school had consumed Roberto’s life, to the point where he hadn’t really been interested in dating.

“Just because you have ‘experience’ doesn’t mean you’re actually  _ good _ ,” he says, sidestepping Sieg’s guess. “I had ‘experience’ after two kendo lessons, but I was still awful.”

“This is different,” Sieg insists.

“Prove it,” Roberto says, before his brain can catch up with his mouth and ask it  _ with all due respect, what the  _ hell _ are you doing? _

Sieg’s eyes glint with determination, and he replies, “Fine,” before dropping his pencil, leaning across the few inches that separate them, and pressing his lips to Roberto’s. In the back of his mind, Roberto is able to note that yeah, Sieg isn’t half bad at this and he wasn’t exaggerating, but most of his mental energy at the moment goes to internally screaming.

Sieg separates from him with a small gasp, and after a momentary pause, he grins at Roberto and says, “You’re pretty okay at this, too.”

“Thanks,” Roberto manages to choke out, while battling both the instinct to jump up from the bed and make a run for it and the urge to grab Sieg by the shirt and rack up some more experience. The silence between them stretches on for a minute more before Sieg abruptly stands up and says, “So, uh, anyway, I just remembered I promised I’d help out at the café today, so I gotta go.”

“Okay. Uh, good study session,” Roberto says lamely.

“Yeah.” The silence between them stretches on for another awkward minute before Roberto says, “See you at school tomorrow.”

* * *

 

As soon as the door closes behind Sieg, he sprints across the street to the Citro Café, only slowing down to drop his backpack in the breakroom and pull on an apron.

“What happened to you?” Marica asks suspiciously. “Your face is all red. Are you getting sick?”

There’s no point in lying to Marica and Jale; they’ve been able to read him like an open book since before they even knew how to read. So Sieg says, “I kissed Roberto and I think I liked it, and I have no idea what I’m supposed to do now.”

Liu blinks several times and exchanges glances with Marica and Jale. “That wasn’t what I was expecting,” he mumbles finally. Marica whistles a few bars of some pop tune as she arranges the freshly baked muffins in the display case—a few bars in, Sieg recognizes it as the chorus to “Complicated”, and glares at her. “Do you  _ have  _ to?”

Jale looks up from his place at the cash register and asks with a completely straight face, “Then why’d you have to go and make things so complicated?” Marica high-fives him, and the two of them snicker.

“Aw, lay off him, you guys,” Liu chimes in, cinching the strings of his apron around his waist.

“You’re right. At least he was actually brave enough to do something with the person he likes.” Marica winks and elbows Liu in the side, giggling when he turns bright red.

“I don’t know what you four are up to, but you’d better focus! The afternoon rush is going to start coming in any minute now,” Dirk calls from the kitchen. As if on cue, the bells above the door let out a little jingle, and Minen and Buchse from the shooting range down the street stride through the door. Minen is gesticulating wildly, probably trying to prove some point or another; Buchse nods along, interjecting a monosyllabic reply every two minutes or so.

“You know what,” Liu says, after getting a good look at Sieg’s face, “switch positions with me for today. You’re not gonna be able to focus on anything with your mind like that.”

“Really?” Sieg gapes at Liu for a second. Liu hates working the counter because he always manages to annoy the grumpy customers like old Hao-Shi or Mun-Tsang, who hate Liu’s guts for some reason. As a result, Liu is usually put somewhere where he doesn’t have to talk to people, like in the back washing dishes or working the coffee machines.

“Yeah. C’mon, before I change my mind,” Liu grimaces, and pushes Sieg through to the kitchen.

“Get’cha head in the game,” Marica calls over Liu’s shoulder.

* * *

 

As soon as Sieg is out the door, Roberto stalks into Amaralicht and Quillard’s room and flops dramatically onto Amaralicht’s bed, groaning out a muffled  _ Hfgn kfffd mff _ .

“Roberto, you know we can’t understand you when you do that,” Amaralicht says, looking up from his textbook. “What’s going on?”

“Did you two break up? Is that what this is?” Quillard asks without even looking away from his computer screen.

“No,” Roberto says, still muffled by Amaralicht’s pillow.

Quillard’s interest is piqued by this denial, and he swivels to face Roberto. “Then did you make out?”

Roberto pushes himself up off the bed to deliver a scandalized “ _ No,  _ do you think I would do that with Chrodechild and Fredegund around?! It’s just—he—he kissed me,” he trails off.

“Wait, so you wouldn’t make out with Chrodechild and Fredegund around, but you’d do it if  _ we _ were—” Quillard gets out, before Amaralicht interrupts him with a stern “Quillard, stop.”

Roberto rolls over, stares up at the ceiling, and asks no one in particular, “I could break up with him, right? My German grade is all right now. I think I could survive the rest of the year.”

“ _ Oh _ .” Roberto can’t see Amaralicht’s face from his current position, but he would be willing to bet at least fifty potch that Amaralicht is making the annoying I-just-figured-something-out face. “You actually like him, don’t you?”

As usual, Amaralicht is annoyingly perceptive. Meanwhile, Quillard mumbles something that sounds an awful lot like  _ You two have been dancing around each other for three whole months and you still haven’t even made out, I cannot believe this _ . After Roberto throws Amaralicht’s pillow at him, he has the grace to keep any subsequent comments at a volume inaudible to Roberto’s ears.

“Hey, Roberto, can you do me a favor and get up for a minute? You’re lying on my sweatshirt,” Amaralicht says after a while.

* * *

 

As if Roberto’s life weren’t stressful enough, everything comes crashing down all at once when Chrodechild calls a family meeting on the Friday after he kisses Sieg. All six of them are crammed into their apartment’s tiny kitchen.

“You’re telling me that unless you agree to marry the CEO of Janam Corp, we’re going to lose our dojo  _ and  _ our apartment?” Roberto paces up and down in front of the refrigerator, his feet tapping out a steady rhythm on the tiles. “This is ridiculous! This is blackmail! This can’t be legal, can it?”

Amaralicht slumps over the kitchen table, worry written all over his face. “I’m sure Janam has a great legal team. I mean, Danash is married to three women concurrently and nothing’s ever come up in court.”

More concerned with the smaller details, Quillard scowls, “Exactly! He has  _ three wives _ already! Why does he need to marry you, too?!”

“I hope you told him to stick his proposal—” Fredegund begins, incensed, before Chrodechild holds up a hand and all of them quiet down.

“I told him that this was a very large decision and I would need time to think it over,” she says. “Janam Corp  _ is  _ the owner of this building, and that fact alone has a great amount of influence in this decision. Which means that if any of you have an idea about how to save our dojo and our home which doesn’t involve me marrying Danash, you had better speak now.”

An uncomfortable silence pervades the room. None of them can seem to think of an idea. Amaralicht’s fingers tap nervously on the kitchen table; Roberto stops pacing around the kitchen; Fredegund picks at the skin around her nails. Meruvis speaks up for the first time: “Chrodechild, we can’t do this alone. We need help.”

“Maybe Lathilda would speak up for us?” Amaralicht asks. “She knows us pretty well, and she knows that taking away our home and our guardians’ workplace would jeopardize our stability or something like that.”

“What stability?” Quillard mumbles. Roberto reaches over and smacks him in the shoulder; he’s all for sarcasm and snark, but now is probably not the time.

“I’ll call Lathilda,” Chrodechild decides, standing up from the table. “The rest of you, think about whom we can call on to ask for help.”

Within hours, the family comes up with a plan: they schedule a meeting with Lathilda for the next day. Throughout that day, Roberto’s out of it, preoccupied with the impending meeting and formulating possible arguments to run by Lathilda. (Sieg even manages to hold his hand across the table at lunchtime, and he hardly notices.)

The first meeting with Lathilda doesn’t go well. It doesn’t seem like they have much of a base to build their defense off of; Janam Corp’s legal team is legendary for their ruthlessness. About fourteen years back, they steamrollered the Salsabil Company into a merger,  _ and _ Danash married the CEO’s daughter. “If entire companies are no match for Janam Corp’s legal team, then one dojo probably doesn’t have much of a chance,” Lathilda thinks out loud. This thought is not comforting at all. 

Roberto stumbles through the next day like a zombie, and gets back his German grade for the semester that day. Thanks to Sieg’s help (and, to some degree, his own stubborn persistence), his German grade has moved all the way from a D+ to a B. He knows he’s being a pretty terrible fake boyfriend. With everything that’s happening, his head is a million miles away.  _ Maybe _ , he thinks,  _ it’s time to call it quits. _ He picks up his phone and taps out a couple of messages.

> **ROBERTO💋😘😍💞 [09:40 PM]**
> 
> _ hey can we talk tomorrow _
> 
> _ meet me at herr mourgent’s classroom before school _

* * *

Going into Herr Mourgent’s classroom, Sieg isn’t sure what to expect; Roberto seemed oddly muted, even over text, and it’s clear to anyone with eyes that he’s been out of it the entire week. 

Still,  _ this  _ is definitely not anything close to what he was expecting.

“I think we need to break up,” Roberto says without preamble, when Sieg comes in. “Maybelle is done stalking you, and my German grade has gone up. I think our deal’s been fulfilled.” 

Something feels wrong about the situation, but logically, Sieg knows this makes sense. This charade has probably gone on for way too long, and they’ve both gotten what they need. Maybelle hasn’t talked to him, much less stalked him, for the last couple of weeks. At this point, keeping up this facade is just additional work –  _ and _ , Sieg remembers,  _ Roberto is applying for colleges too, he’s a busy guy. Maybe he doesn’t have time for this anymore. _

With all that in mind, Sieg replies, “Uh, okay. I’ll see you around, I guess.” As Roberto turns to leave, he adds, “Thanks for all your help.”

“No.” Roberto turns to look Sieg in the eye, and he looks more tuned in than he’s been all week. A small, somewhat sad smile creeps over his face as he says, “Thank  _ you _ .”

* * *

In an ironic twist of events, Maybelle approaches Sieg a few minutes after Roberto leaves.

“No, wait, don’t run!” she exclaims, as Sieg’s eyes dart toward the nearest exit. “I just want to talk to you really quickly.”

“What is it?” Sieg asks.

“I… I just wanted to say I’m sorry for the way I acted when I first met you,” Maybelle says. “I was so excited to meet the person I thought was my fated lover, I completely didn’t think about how you felt. But I’ve been talking to Morrin a lot lately—” Morrin, Sieg remembers, is also in their German class, and has her own fair share of relationship difficulties with a certain womanizer named Icas—“and she was telling me that that’s not really the way to go about trying to get anyone to like you, really. So I did some thinking. And you know, sometimes, true love means letting the person you love be happy with someone else,” she says wistfully. “The way he looks at you… It’s really something special.”

“Huh?” Sieg says blankly, before his brain catches up and he grins weakly. “Oh. Uh, yeah. Haha, thanks.”

“Good luck with him,” Maybelle smiles. “I think you two are going to do really well together.” The bell rings, and she jumps. “Oh! I have to get to class. I’ll catch you later!”

* * *

“Honestly, Roberto, you’re a frickin’ idiot.” Quillard slams his tray down on their lunch table. Today, Sieg and his friends are conspicuously absent, and the table feels empty without them around. “I heard about it already.”

“That happened three periods ago,” Roberto grumbles. “How could you possibly have heard about it already?”

“Well, Anya from your German class heard it happening, and she told Erin in her English class, and Erin and Amaralicht have yearbook together so she asked him if he knew about it because you live together, obviously, and Amaralicht told me in the lunch line—”

“Fine, fine, I get it!”

“And  _ anyway _ , like I said before, you are a grade-A idiot, honestly, even Amaralicht has never done anything that selflessly stupid and Amaralicht is like the king of selfless stupidity.”

Amaralicht walks up to their lunch table at that moment. He looks vaguely offended, and he’s on the verge of opening his mouth to say something when Roberto preemptively cuts him off with a terse, “Are you done yet?”

“We’re having an intervention!” exclaims Quillard, undaunted by Roberto’s glare. “ _ Obviously _ you like him, so what the hell are you doing?”

“I don’t even know if he likes me back,” Roberto says, burying his face in his arms. The tips of his ears are definitely bright red.

“He kissed you!”

“Kissing is not a sign of anything,” Roberto snaps.

“Roberto, I think you’re the only person I know who breaks up with someone when you realize you actually like them.” Amaralicht’s tone is placating. “Maybe this wasn’t the best idea?”

“Look, there’s so much going on right now. Between work and school and Danash trying to marry Chrodechild, I don’t have time for a boyfriend, either real or fake.” It sounds like he’s just trying to rationalize his actions, and he knows it. Still, Amaralicht is nice enough not to mention it.

* * *

With Roberto’s lunch table officially out of the question, Sieg and his friends are back in the library for lunch.

“You broke up with him?” Marica sounds incredulous. “I thought you actually liked him.”

“ _ He _ broke up with  _ me _ ,” Sieg says. It’s not all that important at this point, but he still feels like Marica and Jale should know.

“I’ll punch him in the face, if you want,” Jale offers. For once, Liu doesn’t say it’s a bad idea. On the other hand, Marica sounds unconvinced – “I think there’s something going on with him,” she frowns.

“Can I at least steal his number off Sieg’s phone and text him something threatening,” Jale whispers loudly enough that Sieg can hear it. 

“ _ No _ ,” Marica hisses back, and that’s the end of that conversation.

“Speaking of breakups–” Liu is clearly trying to change the subject (and for once, Sieg is grateful for his best friend’s avoidant tendencies)– “has anyone noticed that Asad’s been coming in alone a lot more lately? I wonder what happened there?”

“I mean, he and Chrodechild weren’t really dating,” Marica muses.

* * *

 

A week goes by, then two. Roberto plods through German classes, managing to maintain a steady B average on quizzes and assignments. His phone, which used to buzz with texts from Sieg so often, now only rings in the mornings to wake him up. Evenings are quieter, too, with Roberto, Amaralicht, and Quillard left alone most nights while Chrodechild, Fredegund, and Meruvis consult with connections around the city, trying to figure out a way to escape this situation.

“If fighting legally isn’t allowed,” Quillard says one night, as they’re doing homework around the kitchen table, “then maybe we have to play dirty.”

Amaralicht drops his pencil and looks at his brother, aghast. “I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but  _ no,  _ we cannot beat up the  _ CEO of a major company,  _ are you  _ insane? _ ” The pencil rolls off the table and onto the floor.

“Oh my god, no! I meant getting at his kids.” 

“We are not beating up  _ children! _ ”

“No!” Quillard yells, frustrated. “I mean, like… Listen, Danash has two kids, right? And one of those kids, his best friend, he’s in my English class. We correct each other’s papers all the time. So, what if I just… ‘accidentally’ let it slip to him that Danash is thinking of marrying Chrodechild? I could say that that’s the reason why I wrote such a terrible paper. I’m so stressed about this situation I can’t think straight.” 

“You always write terrible papers,” Roberto snarks, erasing his work on a math problem and starting the whole thing over. “But… you know, everything we’re trying isn’t working. Maybe this is worth a shot.”

“Taj tells Shams everything,” Quillard explains, slowly gaining steam. “Like, I mean  _ everything _ . And if he tells Shams something, you know his mom will hear about it sooner or later. Maybe she’ll be a voice of reason for Danash!”

“Quillard, that’s… that’s amazing. I’m actually really proud of you for not trying to punch your problems away,” Amaralicht says sincerely to Quillard. “Sorry for making snap judgments about what you were saying.”

“Your apology is accepted,” Quillard says graciously. “Anyway, Taj and I are supposed to correct each other’s essays during English tomorrow. I’ll try it and see how it goes.”

* * *

> **bros of night’s veil ⚔**
> 
> _ Members: Quillard Klein (admin), Amaralicht Klein, Roberto Asato _
> 
> **Quillard:** GUYS GUYS GUYS
> 
> **Roberto:** What
> 
> **Roberto:** I still hate this group chat title by the way
> 
> **Quillard:** whatever!! save yr complaining 4 another time  
> 
> **Amaralicht:** Quillard, aren’t you in class? :/
> 
> **Quillard:** I TOLD TAJ YESTERDAY N TAJ TOLD SHAMS 
> 
> **Quillard:** N SHAMS TOLD HIS MOM 
> 
> **Quillard:** N HIS MOM TOLD DANASHS OTHER WIVES 
> 
> **Quillard:** N THEY FLIPPEDDDDDDD 

At that point, Herr Mourgent very politely asks Roberto to put his phone away, unless he would like it to be  _ beschlagnahmt _ . Roberto isn’t entirely sure what that means, but it sounds bad; with some irritation, he turns his phone off and shoves it into his bag. 

As soon as class gets out, Roberto digs frantically through his bag, grabs his phone with shaking hands, and shoots off a text:  _ WHAT DO YOU MEAN. _

_ huh _ , Sieg replies. Roberto realizes, somewhat belatedly, that he is definitely 1) in the wrong messaging app and 2) talking to the wrong person altogether.

_ oh shoot wrong thread my bad _ , Roberto texts back, and immediately switches over to the group chat he shares with Quillard and Amaralicht. Some rational part of him wonders whether he should say something to Sieg; the rest of him shuts that thought down in favor of finding out what the hell is happening in his family.

> **bros of night’s veil ⚔**
> 
> **Quillard:** so apparently theres sooooo much drama w danash n his wives
> 
> **Quillard:** it is thru the ROOF but like constantly its not all my fault
> 
> **Quillard:** his wives fight over his resources literally ALL THE TIME theyre cutthroat bro
> 
> **Quillard:** so when they heard that he wanted to marry some1 else they were like
> 
> **Quillard:** GIVE US WHAT U PROMISED US FIRST U FRICKIN FRICK
> 
> **Amaralicht:** That’s… incredible.
> 
> **Amaralicht:** They said it exactly like that?
> 
> **Roberto:** Good job sparking a familial meltdown
> 
> **Quillard:** i do my best!!!
> 
> **Quillard:** anyway danash is doin damage control w his wives and has to pull back 4 now
> 
> **Quillard:** so it looks like chrodechild is safe from his casanova ways

* * *

Roberto doesn’t think it’s going to be that easy to deter a very determined Danash, but it seems like the wrath of his three wives has temporarily cowed the CEO of Janam Corp. After a week, the Danash Problem seems to be more or less resolved. Chrodechild and Asad are back to hanging out and going on weird not-dates on the weekends. Amaralicht swears he saw Fredegund and Meruvis Googling Asad one day just to see what would show up. Roberto thinks this is their version of a background check.

A few days later, Roberto discovers that Danash had confronted Chrodechild again, in the dojo while they’d been at school, and she’d turned him down in the most badass way possible. She’d been practicing iaido, which uses real blades instead of their bamboo shinai, and as soon as he’d tried to wheedle her into accepting his proposal, she’d turned her sword on him and told him  _ No means no, Danash. Get out of my dojo. _ “God, my sister is so cool,” Fredegund had said dreamily, as she recollected the incident. It seems that rather than being the entire reason for Danash backing off, Quillard inadvertently turning Danash’s wives against him had just been the cherry on top.

With everything back to normal, more or less, Roberto’s focus is back on school and work. He really has no reason to keep avoiding Sieg – yet he does anyway.

“I can’t go back to talking with him when I’m the one who broke up with him. That’s just… weird,” he says, when Amaralicht pointedly asks him why he hasn’t been talking with Sieg. “I made this choice and I need to stick with it.”

“What if you need help with German?” Quillard asks.

“I’ll deal with it.” Roberto tries his hardest to convey that the conversation is done, and goes back to attempting to work on his college application essays. Unseen by him, Quillard and Amaralicht exchange a significant look across the table.

* * *

> _ You have 1 new message request. _
> 
> **Amaralicht Klein** _ wants to chat with you. Accept? _
> 
> **Marica:** Hey! You’re Roberto’s friend, right?
> 
> **Marica:** What is this about?
> 
> **Amaralicht:** Roberto is a fool and I need your help. :/
> 
> **Marica:** I’m listening.

* * *

> **Marica Anand** created the group chat  **INTERVENTION** with Amaralicht Klein, Quillard Klein, Jale Barone, and Liu-Shen AK.
> 
> **Amaralicht:** Hey everyone! :)
> 
> **Jale Barone** updated the group photo:  [ **intervention_banner.jpg** ](https://imgur.com/a/LOHlIbu)
> 
> **Liu:** Did you really Photoshop our faces onto this picture??
> 
> **Liu:** None of us even watch How I Met Your Mother!!
> 
> **Jale:** liu tell me truly 
> 
> **Jale:** would i rly do that much
> 
> **Jale:** these r snapchat stickers
> 
> **Liu:** I can tell. It looks terrible.
> 
> **Jale:** u say that after i went to all the trouble of drawing an extra stick figure to photoshop ur head on :///
> 
> **Liu:** You 
> 
> **Liu:** You JUST said these were Snapchat stickers
> 
> **Quillard:** uhhhh so wut is this about????
> 
> **Marica:** We’re staging an intervention! 
> 
> **Marica:** Sieg and Roberto are both dumb
> 
> **Marica:** So we’re gonna try to help them get their lives together
> 
> **Marica:** Amaralicht and I came up with this plan...

* * *

_ Astrasia University prides itself on having a student body who is willing to rely on each other when times get rough. Describe a time when you had to request assistance, and who you reached out to in that time of need. _

The cursor on his laptop screen blinks blankly back at Roberto as if to mock him. 

Ever since the breakup – which wasn’t even a  _ real  _ breakup, anyway, could you call it a breakup if you weren’t even dating in the first place – Roberto’s been throwing himself into kendo and his college applications with a passion. His essays are nearly done, with the exception of the ones for his Astrasia University application (which, unfortunately, is his top choice school.)

It helps that his English teacher has been giving his class time to work on their essays, but class time doesn’t necessarily mean that he’ll magically overcome his writer’s block. So here he is, with zero words written on the essay that may or may not decide his future – and it’s due in two weeks.

“All right, everyone, good work today! Remember your personal statement draft is due next Tuesday, so be sure to have  _ something  _ ready to edit by then,” chirps Ms. Moana. “Senioritis is not an excuse for anything, if you want to graduate. But if you are having a tough time this semester, participants in the upcoming cultural assembly will receive ten points in extra credit!”  Back when she went to Ratselhaft High, Ms. Moana danced in the cultural assembly every year; there’s a photo of her with her friends, all dressed up and grinning for the camera, that hangs, framed, next to her desk. She gives this assignment as extra credit to the seniors every year now, as a way of encouraging them to perform one last time (or for the first time) before they leave.

Roberto closes his laptop, slides it back into his backpack, and heads out to the hallway. English is his last class of the day, so he goes to drop some books off in his locker before heading out to the school bus.

Amaralicht is leaning up against the locker next to his, shooting off a text to someone. “Hey, want to sign up to do a kendo demo with us for the cultural assembly?” he asks.

Thinking ahead to how he may not have anything ready to edit for his Astrasia U app by next Tuesday, Roberto shrugs and says, “Sure, why not?”

* * *

On the other end of things, Sieg is much more easily convinced to participate in an arnis demo. Rey, one of the older students from Sieg’s arnis lessons, signs up for the cultural assembly to earn some extra credit from Ms. Moana, but then decides to pull out all the stops since it’s their last year. They recruit their fellow seniors Gabs, Jen, and Rafael, then extend the invitation to Sieg, Jale, and Marica as well. They invite Liu as well, but he opts out of the demo, choosing instead to be their photographer. “Someone’s gotta record this for all your Instagrams,” he says.

Sparring is always fun, and Sieg readily welcomes any possible chance to put off doing his homework. He and Jale attempt to work out a choreographed fight scene for their part of the demo – this is great in theory, but in most of their practice sessions, they end up just trying to beat each other up. (“It works,” Rey says, shrugging their shoulders. “I’m not gonna mess with it.”)

* * *

“When was a time I had to ask for help?” Roberto asks Amaralicht, as they work through the choreography of their demo. They’re in the dojo, trying to maximize the time they have after the children’s classes have left but before the adult classes start coming in. “Wait, no, try ducking here and I’ll swing there–” 

“If you have to ask, that’s probably not a good sign,” quips Amaralicht. “But, uh, maybe in kendo?” He ducks, as suggested, and then swipes at Roberto as he springs up; Roberto parries and jumps back, taking a moment to catch his breath. “When we started out, we were all pretty terrible.”

“Or maybe,” Quillard says pointedly, from where he’s rather grumpily sitting on the sidelines, “you needed to ask for help when you were failing German.”

“Shut up,” Roberto retorts eloquently, and redoubles his attack on Amaralicht. 

“There’s rehearsal – for the cultural assembly – tomorrow – in the gym,” Amaralicht gasps out between blows. “During – free period –  _ ow _ , okay, okay, I yield! Quillard, you made him angry, you spar with him for a while. I need some water.”

“Sorry.” Roberto sounds only vaguely contrite. He levels his shinai at Quillard, who gulps audibly as he picks up his own shinai. “I’ll be there during free period tomorrow, then.”

* * *

> **bros of night’s veil ⚔**
> 
> **Amaralicht:** Roberto, can you go ahead to the gym? We’ll meet you there.
> 
> **Amaralicht:** SOMEONE left his shinai in English class. :/
> 
> **Quillard:** ya ya whatev im omw to get it
> 
> **Roberto:** Yeah see you there

* * *

> **CITRO CRU 😩👌🏽💯**
> 
> _ Members: Sieg Anand (admin), Jale Barone, Marica Anand, Liu-Shen AK _
> 
> **Marica:** Cultural assembly rehearsal in the gym! Don’t forget  **@Sieg @Jale**
> 
> **Liu:** Have a good rehearsal! I’ll be in the front row tomorrow for the real thing!!
> 
> **Jale:** 👌🏽
> 
> **Sieg:** omw over!! got my sticks

* * *

> **INTERVENTION**
> 
> **Jale:** the eagle is approaching the nest w claws out
> 
> **Quillard:** bro wtf wdym 
> 
> **Amaralicht:** The, uhhhh, hawk is also approaching the nest??
> 
> **Amaralicht:** What does “claws out” mean??  **@Marica** please help
> 
> **Marica:** Sieg has his sticks! He’s ready to GO.
> 
> **Jale:** do u think anyone’s gonna draw blood
> 
> **Quillard:** ooh bro my bets on roberto hes gna FRICK HIM UPPPPP
> 
> **Liu:** We!! Are not!!!! Hoping anyone gets injured!!!!!!!!

* * *

The gym is weirdly empty, for what’s supposed to be a cultural assembly rehearsal. Aside from their kendo demo, Roberto knows that at least ten other acts are signed up to perform. Yet, the only person in the gym right now is… 

Roberto squints at the lone figure practicing swings across the gym from him and confirms that yes, he’s wearing bright red armor. Although there’s a mask covering his face, Roberto is pretty sure he knows exactly who it is. His stomach drops.

(If he makes it out of here without embarrassing himself to death, he’s going to  _ kill  _ Amaralicht and Quillard.)

“Hey,” says Sieg, looking up. “It’s been a while.”

* * *

That’s probably a really dumb opener, but Sieg’s already started, so he keeps rolling with it. He takes off his mask and tucks it under his arm, asking, “How have you been?”

“Uh, good, I guess.” Roberto goes quiet for a moment, then adds, “It’s been pretty quiet for the last few weeks.”

Right, the last few weeks since they broke up. Sieg’s brain temporarily loses control of his mouth, and in that brief few seconds, he blurts out, “I don’t think I ever got a real explanation for why we broke up. Y’know, I thought we had a good thing going.”

Roberto looks confused. “I thought you just needed Maybelle to get off your back.”

“I did,” Sieg says, “but then I realized that I actually liked hanging out with you. I mean, if you don’t want to be my friend anymore, that’d suck, but I’d understand if you just  _ told me why. _ ”

“I just…” Roberto trails off. It looks like he’s fighting some kind of internal battle with himself, until he clenches his fists and blurts out, “After we kissed – or no, even before that – I realized I actually liked you, and I didn’t know what to do because that’s so  _ stupid _ , who actually gets a crush on the person they’re fake dating?”

It seems that in that moment, Roberto’s brain catches up with his mouth is saying, and he slowly starts to turn bright red while Sieg gapes at him.

* * *

There’s an awkward silence for a few long moments; Roberto spends those moments regretting every life choice that led him up to this point, until Sieg finally says something. “One duel.”

“Sorry, what?”

“One duel,” he repeats. “You win, then our breakup’s official. I win, then we stick this out for a little while longer.”

“How is that even fair? I have a sword and you have a stick!”

“Then it shouldn’t be that hard for you to win, right?” Sieg is goading him and Roberto  _ knows  _ it, knows he should step back and cut things off before he does something he regrets, but instead he hisses, “ _ You’re on. _ ”

They turn their backs on each other, step ten paces away, then turn around. The fight is fierce; both of them seize the opportunity to take out the past two weeks’ frustration on each other. They’re pretty evenly matched, even with their differences in gear. When Roberto swings upward, Sieg blocks it by turning his stick horizontal; when Sieg swings at his knees, Roberto jumps back and uses his shinai to bump the stick away. Without their headgear, it’s more dangerous and more personal – Roberto can see every emotion that flits across Sieg’s face, and he’s not sure how to read them.

Almost five minutes later, neither of them is anywhere near close to winning the match. Sieg has got Roberto backed up against the gym wall, but Roberto is unwilling to give any ground; as he attempts to batter Sieg back, he almost spits, “Why do you  _ care _ so much?” Sieg is uncomfortably close to him, invading his personal space without any signs of hesitation.

“Because I like you too, you colossal ass,” Sieg says plainly, and uses the stick in a clever maneuver to twist Roberto’s shinai out of his hands. As Roberto gapes at him, he grabs Roberto by the front of his t-shirt and hauls him down for a kiss.

(Somewhere in the background, someone – or multiple someones – gasp loudly. Those someones go unnoticed, until the group chats start to light up a few hours later.)

* * *

> **CITRO CRU**
> 
> **Jale** sent an image:  **frickinfinally.jpg**
> 
> **Jale:** you owe us 1
> 
> **Marica:** we accept payment in movie tickets to the new movie adaptation of the rune of punishment <3
> 
> **Liu:** We got your back!
> 
> **Sieg:** u guys are the best <3333
> 
> **Jale:** so liu it’s ur turn now right
> 
> **Liu:** Wait wHAT

* * *

> **bros of night’s veil ⚔**
> 
> **Amaralicht** sent an image:  **holyfrick.jpg**
> 
> **Amaralicht:** Proud of you. <3
> 
> **Quillard:** HAHA AYYYYY GET IT ROBERTO
> 
> **Roberto:** I hate you both.
> 
> **Roberto:** But thanks, I guess.

* * *

 

EPILOGUE: ONE MONTH LATER

In one photo, Sieg’s close enough to the camera that you can see his grin through the slats of his mask. In another, Roberto is caught mid-spin, looking for all the world like a still from a martial arts movie.

In one that Sieg likes significantly more, Roberto’s face is caught in an expression that “makes you look like you’re about to take a dump babe, haha”, according to Sieg. Unfortunately for Roberto, Sieg’s set this particular photo as his lockscreen.

The teachers who run Ratselhaft High’s social media have finally gotten around to uploading the pictures from the cultural assembly (nearly a month ago now). The cultural assembly had gone off without a hitch, and the extra credit the seniors received had helped them coast their way through the next month of English class. During that month, Roberto and Sieg had finally sat down and answered the age-old question, “What are we?” This mostly happened because after they fought it out in the gym, Marica and Amaralicht had forced them to sit down and actually talk things out. “It’s a great lesson about how you should  _ actually communicate with people _ ,” Amaralicht had said pointedly. (For once, Roberto thought, he was probably right.) 

Roberto’s favorite photo, though, isn’t one on the official Ratselhaft High Facebook page. Instead, it’s one Liu took of them after the assembly, both still in their full uniform, with their arms around each other’s shoulders and laughing at something out of frame. He’s set that one as his lockscreen; Amaralicht and Quillard tease him mercilessly every time they see it, but he likes it too much to bother with changing it.

During that month, Roberto had also gotten his life together and submitted all his personal statements; he’s simply waiting to hear back from the various universities he’s applied to. Since he has so much extra time on his hands now that his apps are in, Sieg has taken to dragging him along to study with his friends (and Len-Lien, who has started hanging out with Liu a lot more lately.)

One afternoon, Liu, Len-Lien, Sieg, and Roberto are taking a study break, luxuriating in the springtime sun in the school courtyard. Liu has just finished retelling the story of how Roberto and Sieg got together, when Len-Lien gasps. “Wait, you weren’t actually dating before? But you looked so convincing in all the snaps Liu sent.”

“Yeah, and in a way, we kinda owe it to you, Len-Lien!” Sieg grins. “Marica said I couldn’t fake date Liu because that would mess up his chances with you, and—”

Liu splutters loudly enough to cover up anything else Sieg says, turning bright red. Len-Lien turns pink as Sieg’s words sink in; Sieg flashes Liu a thumbs-up and very conspicuously starts edging toward the door to the building. Roberto rolls his eyes, grabs Sieg’s hand, and says, “We’ll be back later.”

“Just spreading the love around,” Sieg calls over his shoulder, grinning almost maniacally as Roberto pulls him back into the building. The door swings shut just as Len-Lien and Liu start talking at the same time.

“The love, huh?” Roberto asks, struggling not to smirk. Sieg drags him down the hallway, grinning. 

“Of course, babe!” Sieg squeezes Roberto’s hand. “Now c’mon, they’re showing a marathon of  _ The Liberation Army  _ on TV tonight and we can probably catch it from the beginning if we run!”

**Author's Note:**

> I finished my [first ever Tierkreis fic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1335529) in time for my 18th birthday, and this has been sitting in my drafts almost since then, so I wanted to finish this in time for my 23rd birthday. There are still 15 minutes left in my birthday, so I'm calling it a success!


End file.
